


Creating Family Bonds

by WashboardRibsAndBrokenCribs



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Everyone Has Issues, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Separation Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Male Character, Trans Tucker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9509192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashboardRibsAndBrokenCribs/pseuds/WashboardRibsAndBrokenCribs
Summary: (Post-S13) Wash hasn't met Junior, yet. Tucker wants to introduce them, but both of them have more issues to work through before that can happen.Everybody is sick and unhappy \o/





	1. You Have A Kid?

**Author's Note:**

> *fingerguns* welcome to this shit. 
> 
> Tucker is trans in this, he and Wash have been dating for a while. Some liberties are taken with the portrayal of Chorus, bcuz I have no confidence in my abilities to add in all the intensity the Chorus Arc gave us.  
> Most of the stuff about Junior is my headcanons. Junior also uses they/them pronouns.

He had first heard it from Caboose, that Tucker had a kid. That had been... surprising, but not unexpected. Tucker did seem like the kind of guy who'd have reckless sex and end up with illegitimate kids all over the place. 

So he'd kind of forgotten about it. 

It didn't come up again until they started dating. Wash had completely forgotten that fact until Tucker casually brought it up. It felt different, now, having an intimate relationship with Tucker and knowing his situation better. It wasn't “irresponsible frat bro becomes deadbeat dad” anymore, it was “guy thrust into an unfortunate situation still tries to give his kid the best.” 

The fact that they weren't human didn't seem to make a difference. It had been surprising for Wash to learn (even doubly so when told the story of how it had happened, resulting in a vague recollection of a similar story he had heard in the news, and a sudden outburst of “That was you?!”), but it strangely didn't feel like a problem. 

It definitely wasn't any sort of problem for Tucker, and more than anything he had been glad Wash had heard him out and stuck with him. Part of him had been worried that revealing more about Junior would be a deal breaker—he couldn't be with anyone who didn't love his kid. 

It made Tucker really sentimental to talk about Junior, and Wash had been happy to stay up with him all night, listening to stories and looking at the photos Tucker had saved, and watching that genuinely happy look in Tucker's eyes as he went on. It really was like seeing a whole new side to him, one that only had Wash more smitten than ever. 

He also learned where they were now; in school. Technically, in a compound for children of soldiers. Long before Wash had even met Tucker, Tucker had fought tooth and nail to get his kid enrolled and make sure they were taken care of without prejudice (realistically, he knew that wasn't a certain thing; other kids would be wary of them no matter what, but he at least needed to hear it for himself). It was a live-in facility, that offered a personal caretaker for those who needed it. And Junior needed it, Tucker had told him, they were premature and their growth was a bit stunted because of it, both physically and mentally. 

In all honesty it wasn't ideal, but it was the best thing Tucker could offer Junior given both their situations, even despite the fact that it meant they had to be apart. He still called them every single day, and was always ecstatic to hear they were passing their classes and even took an interest in sports. 

...Then they had crash-landed on Chorus. 

Tucker's anger during their initial set-up in that canyon had suddenly started to make sense, and Wash felt a pang of guilt after learning that. 

Getting wrapped up in the drama on Chorus had been kind of nice in that regard, in that it offered some distraction from the devastation of being unable to contact his kid. But his mind always trailed back to them in the end. 

With the mercs gone and the civil war coming to an end, there had been widespread relief throughout the entire planet, and it was only doubly so for the Reds and Blues. 

Tucker had spent barely any time thinking of what had transpired in the past 24 hours before he was trying to reach Junior. With communications back up, though, signals were jammed with seemingly the entire planet sending and receiving calls all at once. Ordering much-needed supplies, requesting rescue, recounting the past several months to further incriminate Hargrove. 

Tucker just wanted to call his damn kid. 

He had been insistent on waiting for a spot to clear up, and would have gladly waited hours if Wash hadn't forced him to get some rest. Tucker's eyes were desperate and he looked about ready to cry. 

“I just... need to call them,” his fists clenched in his lap. 

Wash took a seat beside him and placed a hand over Tucker's fist, encouraging him to uncurl it, “I know you do. But it looks like it's gonna be a while. So why don't you get some rest?”

“But—”

“You need it,” Wash insists, “You haven't slept for days.” 

Tucker cracks into a grin and squeezes Wash's hand, “Neither have you. Why's it okay when you do it?” 

“Because _I'm_ not the one calling his kid in a few hours,” Wash playfully shoots back, pulling Tucker to his feet and guiding him away. They both shared a chuckle, still holding hands as they walked to their quarters. 

There was only a brief pause of silence between them before Tucker spoke up again. “...Would you, though?” 

Wash gives a confused “hm?” before Tucker elaborates, “I mean, no—I'm asking would you make the call to Junior with me?” 

That stopped Wash in his tracks, confusion still prominent on his face. Tucker had that same apprehensive look in his eyes, the one that made him bite his lip and knit his brows together. 

The same one he had when telling Wash that Junior wasn't human. 

“I mean... I just assumed you'd want it to be private...” Wash shrugs and feels Tucker squeeze his hand again. 

“For a while, yeah. But also... I wanna introduce you two, even if it's just a little,” his lips curl into a nervous smile, now looking hopeful. He senses Wash's upcoming “why” and answers before he can even say it, “ _Because,_ if we're like... gonna be a thing. Then it's important that you know Junior, and that they know you too.” 

There's another pause, with Wash nodding only slightly as he thinks it over. That makes sense. He could do that. 

“And...” Tucker saddens again, “I need to know... if Junior approves of you. I can't date someone if they make my kid uncomfortable or feel unsafe.” 

A pang of fear suddenly strikes Wash, his eyes widening at that implication. 

“I hope you understand,” he continues, “I love you, Wash, but Junior is the most important thing in my life. I'd put them above my own safety, and I always have. They're what comes first.” 

Wash hasn't been looking Tucker in the eye, instead staring on the wall behind him, his eyes unfocusing and his hands feeling numb. Tucker's absolutely right. And he couldn't ask him to ignore his child if they didn't like him. 

It takes a few calls of his name before he starts coming back to himself, and a few more to get his vision back and actually look at Tucker directly. 

“Yeah, I understand,” Wash's voice is a touch hoarse but he doesn't bother clearing his throat, not until he remembers where they were going. “You need some sleep,” he reminds Tucker. 

Tucker nods and they continue on to his room in relative silence. Wash notices Tucker reach up and twirl one of his braids in his fingers; a nervous tic he has. At least he's not the only one on edge. 

Tucker ends up dragging Wash into bed with him, mumbles that it'll help him sleep better, and it'll do Wash some good too. Wash is mostly doubting that. 

Feeling Tucker's weight on him is usually a source of comfort. But it almost feels a bit stifling in that moment. Wash takes a deep inhale and sighs on the exhale, feeling Tucker's head on his chest stay firmly in place. Tucker's hand clenches in his shirt, and Wash isn't sure if he's still awake or not. 

Anxiety crawls up his spine and presents a new insecurity he hasn't felt since before Basic. Part of him wanted to ask _why_ suddenly someone else's opinion of him mattered when it hadn't up until that point. But the answer to that was too obvious, he damn well knew why. 

“Tucker?” he mumbles, half hoping Tucker doesn't hear it. 

Tucker gives a sleepy grunt in acknowledgment. 

“Were you nervous about becoming a Dad?” there's that insecurity again, only this time commingling with embarrassment. 

Tucker sighs and huffs against Wash. “...Yeah.” It sounds as though he wants to add more, but can't bring himself to do it. Wash wants to ask for more, but can't bring himself to it either. 

_Are you still?_

_What'd you do to combat it?_

_Does Junior think you're a good Dad?_

That last thought makes Wash tense and forget how to breathe. He doesn't want to think about it. He can't be presumptuous and go that far. He knows that Junior might not even like him and it could lead to him and Tucker having to part ways. He doesn't want to fantasize, he doesn't want to get his hopes up. 

He can feel his mind starting to leave itself. His eyes lock on the ceiling without even realizing. Everything begins to blur and go out of focus. He feels his body relax and practically become dead weight, a familiar numbness starting at his feet and working it's way up. 

And for once, Wash welcomes it happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wash, probably: would a healthy person be able to do THIS *dissociates for five minutes*"
> 
> Lmao Wash's dissociating is based on my own
> 
> Give me praise and attention @ my tumblr, it helps me write more: "hippocratessocrates"


	2. Knock Knock

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

It's a familiar setting for Wash, and a nice one. He can't tell where it is exactly, but it's bright and surrounded by warm colors. He looks to the people around him and can't make out their faces, absolutely nothing about them registering no matter how hard he stares. He knows he's seen them before, so why can't he remember them? 

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

But then he finds someone he knows. 

Tucker. Sitting right beside him. He says something that Wash can't understand, the words coming out muffled and distorted, like he's speaking underwater. Wash can't comprehend it, but he feels himself nod in agreement and reply anyway. He doesn't know what he said, but it makes Tucker laugh and smile at him. 

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

He wants to ask what's going on, but the thought seems to vanish as soon as it appears. His mouth hangs open but he can't find it in him to even try to think of something, let alone say it. 

Suddenly he feels breathless. 

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

Like being trapped within yourself. Internally his conscious wants to panic, but nothing will let him, not his mind or his body or the bizarre reality he's found himself in. It feels okay. Like nothing is wrong. Nobody else is panicking, everything seems as normal as that thump _-thmp-thmp_ -ing.

Panic leaves him, as does the world around him. The colors surrounding him in the vague shape of walls seem to melt away, the people in front of them dissolving without him even realizing it. Tucker had vanished long ago, but the memory of his presence stood so firmly and faded away so slowly that it felt alright. It was okay that Tucker was leaving. 

The only thing that didn't fade was that sound. Even when all was gone and Wash felt himself disappearing as well, it still lingered. 

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

And it was getting annoying. So was that voice accompanying it. 

_thmp-thmp-thmp_

He heard a groan emerge and intended to reply with one of his own—only to realize that first groan _had_ been him. 

And come to further recognize that he was still in bed, still with Tucker by him and resting on his chest, still in the exact same place he had found himself when he had drifted off. 

Idly he wondered where all the people had gone, why the walls were the wrong color. It took what felt significantly longer to separate those thoughts from reality. to comprehend that it had been a dream. 

_What. **The hell.** Is that damn knocking._

He lifted a hand to his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes as though that would make it stop. He felt Tucker stirring next to him, only to see him rise in the slightest to suddenly belt out “SHUT UP” to the room. 

Wash snorted at the shared sentiment, pulling himself up to a sitting position as Tucker flung himself back down face-first into the pillow. 

The knocking only stopped momentarily, and Wash finally recognized the voice accompanying it. 

“Captain Tucker! Captain Tucker, are you in there?” the voice sing-songed through the door, followed by another few knocks. 

_Fucking **Palomo.**_

Wash laughs again and reaches to tap Tucker awake. “It's your guy.” 

Tucker groans loudly, the sound muffled by the pillow, and turns his head so only half his face is buried in it. “He's your guy now. Congratulations, you've been promoted to Captain.” 

That gets another smirk out of Wash before he stands. He stretches his arms out behind him until he hears his joints pop. He ambles over to the door and finally slams it open, hard enough to startle Palomo. 

The Lieutenant stumbles over his words at seeing Wash not only out of his armor, but so dressed down (just a tshirt and sweats, the exact same shade of boring grey that his armor was). He falters again when looking him in the eye—he literally looked half dead and ready to kill someone, if those bags under his eyes were any indication (also practically the same color of his armor). 

“I—I need to speak with Captain Tucker!” Palomo nearly punctuates it with a “sir,” and Wash would have fucked off right then if he had. 

He hadn't heard Tucker finally getting up behind him, only noticing the other man when he pushed him aside to lean on the doorway. 

“What is it, Palomo?” Tucker legitimately sounded ready to kill him, and somehow his glare was even more intimidating than Wash's. The impact it had was only softened when Palomo was staring at his chest. 

Yeah, so he wasn't wearing his binder, so what. He had a shirt on at least. 

The young lieutenant finally tore his gaze away to deliver his message. “General Kimball wanted me to let you know that communications have been clearing up and you're welcome to make your calls!” aaand right back to staring at his tits. 

Tucker had crossed his arms (to stop the staring as well as making himself look more serious) and was prepared to shoot him down, only for his words to finally sink in. Suddenly he felt more awake then ever and a wide grin crossed his face. He tried to give a “thanks” before slamming the door in Palomo's face, but wasn't sure if it actually came out. 

Wash found himself wondering how they had cleared the signals so quickly, only to glance at the clock and see that they had been sleeping nearly five hours. 

That shocked him more than it should have, not only because it had only felt like a couple of minutes, but also because that was more sleep than he'd had in _weeks._

The only thing to rip him out of that shock was the realization that Tucker had stripped naked in front of him. 

He barely had his binder over one shoulder before he was stomping into the small bathroom shoved off to the corner. He already had a toothbrush in his mouth before he yelled back at Wash. 

“Dude, get ready! We're gonna call Junior!” 

_Oh... Oh yeah. Right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loud shrugging forgive me for writing about nothing for an entire chapter
> 
> also dreams are weird


	3. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning; mentions of suicide and some self harm. Tucker self harms by pulling his hair, and that'll be mostly reoccurring throughout the rest of the fic.  
> translated Junior's dialogue for the sake of ease

It was pretty cute how concerned Tucker was with looking nice. Sure, it was a video call, but he had been concerned enough to ask Wash “Do I smell okay?” and tug his face closer to his pits, all _before_ he had put on deodorant. 

Gross. But cute nonetheless. 

Despite all that fuss, Tucker didn't want Wash there from the start. That was... understandable, he supposed. He needed a moment to catch up with Junior before springing any news on them. And Wash needed a moment to gather his composure and not immediately freeze when called upon. 

Wash was still sat close enough to Tucker to hear and witness the call, and he was thankful enough for that. 

Tucker was shaking in apprehension as he sat in front of the screen, fists clenching every time he wasn't typing. The first hurdle seemed to be recalling the number. 

He still knew it by heart, had never forgotten it. 

He glanced over at Wash when he heard the first ring, excited but still tentative. 

His smile started to fade after the fifth ring had passed. It went a couple more times before hanging up. Tucker said nothing, only redialed and started twisting one of his braids in his hand. 

Again it rung, two, three, four times—and then hung up. The call had been declined. 

Tried it again. This time it only rung once before hanging up. 

The braid was pulled taut and twisted harder. 

Redial again. Rung once, and twice, and—

An answer. Finally. Only by voice, though, no image appeared yet. There was a vague grunt from the other line, and Tucker's whole face lit up. 

“Junior?” he gasped, “Hey, it's—it's _Dad_...”

There was a brief squeak, and suddenly a video feed popped up. 

There sat an adolescent Sangheili, in what appeared to be a dorm room that was mostly lacking in personalization. 

Wash was somewhat expecting them to be in armor. That was all he'd ever seen Sangheili in, to the point that it looked unnatural seeing one without. 

Even more so when the one before him was only wearing a dark green sweater.

Junior was noticeably tall, even if it wasn't by their species' standard, their skin a dark grey with bright green eyes that stood out the most. They looked smaller than Wash expected. Part of that was their body language, they seemed to curl in on themself, didn't try to pin their shoulders back or stick their chest out. 

Similarly they also seemed very... soft. Even their mandibles seemed more rounded, like there were no hard edges to them at all. Which made sense—they'd never fought, never been in a war, nothing to harden them or give them scars or dim the light in their eyes. 

A loud shrill sound startled Wash out of his observing. Junior had let out a loud wail at being able to see Tucker again. Tucker seemed to mimic the cry as tears rolled down his cheeks. He started fidgeting in his chair without even realizing, seeming to overflow with emotions and energy. 

Then it was just crying, both parties going a mile a minute at each other. Wash could only make out parts of Tucker's side, endless repetition of “I'm so sorry—I missed you so much—I love you so much—” Then noticing that Tucker was slipping in and out of english to another language—the one Junior was speaking, who was repeating the same words and sounds as Tucker. 

“I missed you so much,” Tucker insists, “I'm so sorry it's been so long, I couldn't reach you—”

Junior cuts him off, throwing their arms out in front of them. They suddenly burst into a tirade Wash can't understand, interspersed with whines and sobs and a tone of voice that sounds very very _pained._

_“[I thought... I thought you were dead! You were gone with no warning! I was so scared—I started to **hate** you! I hated you so much! How could you leave—how could you leave me behind? I don't **have** anything! I don't have anything to live for! **I wanted to die!** ]”_

Silence hangs heavily in the air after that, Junior audibly panting as they finish. 

Tucker's hand covers his mouth, holding back words that don't exist. His other arm is wrapped around his midsection, hugging himself. When Junior is finished it's all he can do to whimper out a barely audible “Oh my god.” 

With a pained wail Tucker cradles his head in his hands, howling out his sorrows. His voice cracks when he lets out another string of “oh my god”s, barely able to get that out before he's overcome with loud sobbing until he's red in the face. Junior is mirroring his reaction, hugging themself and choking on their sobs. 

Neither of them know what to say. 

Tucker can barely gather himself enough to speak. “I'm so—I'm so sorry,” he sniffs and gasps, inhales stuttering uncontrollably, “You have every right to hate me, I can't—oh _god_ I'm sorry.”

Junior comes down from it first, still holding themself while wiping away tears, mulling over what to say next. 

In the time it takes them to think, Tucker eventually calms as well. He's wiping his face on the inside of his shirt and holding back even more tears. He could cry about this later. 

“This won't make it okay,” he begins, getting Junior's attention, “but can I explain to you what happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thiS TOOK A TURN.


	4. After the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junior has separation anxiety and Wash has intrusive thoughts

Junior started to come around after the explanation. They want to admit that their reaction may have been too much—

But Tucker catches them. Says that it wasn't. From their standpoint, it looked bad, and they were scared and confused and hurt. It was a justified reaction—and reminds them that their feelings weren't bad or wrong. 

Junior squirms at that and still feels uneasy about the whole thing. Then they say that they don't hate him anymore, and they haven't for a long time. 

Tucker's thankful for that. 

From there the call picks up to lighter topics, and it's very bittersweet when it has to come to an end. Junior gets visibly nervous when they have to hang up, trying to find excuses to keep going and bringing up new topics to continue on with. 

It really pains Tucker to hear the fear in their voice again, to see the desperation in their actions. 

He can promise to call them again tomorrow, but it doesn't help. 

The longer they draw it out the worse it hurts. 

“How about...” Tucker ponders, “I leave you a message?” 

Junior chirps in intrigue. 

“I'll send you whatever I can, as many times as I can, between now and our next call. To let you know I'm still here.” 

Junior's more eager for that than they can hide, nodding frantically. Tucker smiles wide at them and returns a nod. 

“Alright. But to do that, we've got to end this call first.” 

Junior tenses up at that, but agrees. 

“You're going to be okay. I promise.” 

They close their eyes at that and take a deep breath. 

“Okay? I love you, honey. I love you so, so much.” 

They exhale on that. Give a smile and return the sentiment. 

And the call ends. 

\---

Needless to say, Wash's introduction didn't happen that night. 

He felt very wrong having witness the intense breakdown between them. It felt too personal, too private, it was a family issue and he was intruding on that—and he had only been privy to _half_ the conversation. Even worse, he had just been frozen in place the entire time. The least he could have done was comfort Tucker, but... he couldn't. 

He had left after the conversation turned to lighter topics, satisfied in at least knowing they were both alright. And it was a long silent walk back to his quarters. 

He fell into bed without much thought. Didn't change his clothes, didn't crawl under the covers, didn't even kick off his shoes. 

He wasn't sure if Tucker would join him that night. Since they had become a regular thing, they slept in the same bed every night, whether it was his room or Tucker's. 

Maybe they should skip tonight. 

Maybe they should stop altogether. 

Wash wasn't sure which was a better option, all he knew was that he needed time to think. Or to not think. Preferably the latter, because now nothing was stopping his brain from flooding with thoughts and emotions. 

He couldn't even fathom what Junior had said to make Tucker break down like that. He didn't want to try to fill in any gaps on his own. He had no insight, no idea who Junior was, no idea of what to do. He was a complete outsider in this situation. 

And he was scared. It had been _terrifying_ to see what had transpired with no context, and worse, no idea of what to do next. 

It felt like a situation where he couldn't help—and he _shouldn't_ help. Part of his brain is seriously considering just ending it with Tucker right now just so he wouldn't have to think about this any longer. His thoughts drifted to just leaving Chorus altogether, try to pick up his life and go... **somewhere.** And do... **something.**

Those thoughts really aren't okay and he hates himself and his brain for even bringing them up. He could never leave Tucker. He didn't _want_ to leave Tucker, no matter what. 

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Do You Wanna Talk About It?

Wash hadn't been looking forward to seeing Tucker again. Part of him did seriously want Tucker to sleep on his own tonight just so he could avoid this. 

The rest of him was thankful for the eventual knock at his door. 

Tucker still looked like a mess. His eyes were puffy and his face flushed red, tear streaks still prominent on his face and his braids near the front were coming underdone from twisting and pulling them so much. 

Wash pulled him into a hug without a second glance, holding him tight. 

That alone sent Tucker into tears again. 

Wash dragged him back into the room and onto the bed, arms still firmly around Tucker while he whimpers and trembles in Wash's grasp. Wash calmly strokes his back and presses light kisses where he can reach; his head, his neck, his face, his shoulder, again and again. They stay like that for as long as they can, for as long as they need to. Tucker eventually devolves into sniffles but still doesn't move. Wash has to be the one to pull away, and takes Tucker's hands in his own. 

They're still silent, Tucker staring down and Wash watching him, idly tracing his thumbs along the other's palms while he waits. 

Wash still ends up having to make the first move. 

“Do you... want to tell me what happened?” 

Tucker's still fighting back tears. He's tired of crying and just wants it to stop for now. 

His breath still hitches when he begins. “Junior... really hated me for suddenly losing contact.” 

Wash is surprised to hear that, wants to cut in with “it wasn't your fault,” but forces himself to bite it back. Instead he nods while Tucker continues. 

“They were frustrated,” his voice cracks, “and scared, and alone—and I couldn't help them...” the tears overflow again anyway, “..how could I do that to them?”

“Tucker,” Wash really needs to cut in now, “Tucker, no, you didn't—” 

Tucker jerks his hands away and grips his braids by the roots. “Yes I did, Wash! This isn't the first time it's happened!” His whole body jerks away when Wash tries to touch him, and he steps away from the bed. His fists grip tighter and the pull at his scalp becomes more painful. “This _always_ happens, I always make their life worse—they're just a kid, Wash, they can't go through this! It's just like the desert—”

All he hears is blood rushing in his ears, and the next couple seconds seem to disappear. He's forcibly moved and only when he comes back to himself does he realize Wash is grabbing him. Has a tight grip on his wrists and pulled them away so that Tucker can't pull his hair anymore. 

Tucker can't see him through his water in his eyes. 

“Tucker, please,” Wash speaks in a tone that's quiet, but firm, and underlying it all was fear—nervousness and hesitation that made his hurt expression all the worse, “please, just stop.” 

Tucker's frozen in to a silence, and allows himself to be pulled in for another hug. 

“I'm sorry—I don't want to stop your feelings” Wash mumbles against him, “You're right to be upset, especially with all that's going on with Junior. But...” he sighs, “but sitting here beating yourself up isn't going to help anyone. It hurts you, it hurts Junior, and... it hurts me.” 

Tucker whimpers in his throat and wraps his arms around Wash. “I just... feel like the worst parent ever.” 

“Believe me,” Wash has a smile in his voice, “you're not.” 

“How do you know?”

“I've seen much, much worse.” Memories of Project Freelancer flash through his mind for only a second, but it's enough to make his smile drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all the chapters i have written so far, and i may just end it off here, idk.


End file.
